Broken Heart
by swAhILi2011
Summary: Alfred F. Jones died February 14th of heart failure, leaving his husband Arthur Kirkland behind. Five years later and Arthurturns into a grouchy man with no need for companionship , but one young woman may just be enough to change his mind. AU


Arthur Kirkland hated February fourteenth. Every person who tried to with him a "Happy Valentine's" was rewarded with a harsh glare, and the hearts strewn everywhere made him want to tear them all down and light them on fire. At the office where he worked, he had glared at the secretary who had been trying to decorate his office-she was new, so perhaps he should have cut her some slack. She didn't know about what had happened five year previous, that had turned Arthur sour and hardened his heart. He was always late to work on that day, but no one ever commented, because most of them knew where he'd be.

Arthur stood in front of the small gravestone, the dozen red roses in his hands and a bar of chocolate as well. It was his custom, always the same two things each year, but not for the holiday. It was the very same thing that Arthur had been giving him since they'd first hooked up in college, Alfred nineteen and Arthur twenty-three. Alfred had always been the more extravagant of the two, getting those ridiculous heart shaped boxes of candy and teddy bears (which Arthur still had, locked away in his closet), and he would always try to plan something ridiculously cliché and romantic. Arthur had always groused about it, but he'd loved those nights, spent at movies or cuddling on the couch in Alfred's basement-one time they'd even tried a picnic (although it was far too cold in New York that time of year, so they'd ended up at home anyway). It wasn't just Valentine's Day-Arthur scowled to himself at the mere thought of it-but it was also their wedding anniversary. Alfred had planned it many months in advance just to get that date, since he'd proposed to Arthur as soon as they'd heard the law had been passed to legalize same-sex marriage in their state. Arthur had blushed and stammered his way through the ceremony, and Alfred had just laughed, that obnoxious loud laugh of his. Arthur would give anything to hear that laugh again, the see that obnoxious cheeky grin, to hear him spouting nonsense about being the world's hero, of finding some way to stop global warming and end world hunger and all the ridiculously unrealistic plans he had for them. He'd always scolded him, told him to shut up, but he wished he could have gone back now, done it all over again.

They first discovered his heart condition when he went in to get an exam after trying to get in the U.S army, and they found an odd arrhythmia in his heartbeat. He went in for more tests at the hospital where they discovered he had a chronic heart condition, and after many weeks of testing they realized there was nothing they could do. They tried medication, which kept the symptoms at bay, but the condition never went away, and at the young age of thirty-two Alfred had a stroke which landed him in the hospital. Arthur had been at work at the time, and when he received the call he rushed from the office to his side. It was he who received the news that Alfred had five years left, and that was if they were being generous. Arthur had cried that night at Alfred's beside, the first time of many times to come. Alfred was in and out of hospitals for three years before one last stroke hit him and his heart gave out entirely. Arthur kept his last words in his heart, a simple, whispered phrase, but it meant the world to him.

"_I love you, Arthur…happy anniversary…."_

He didn't realize he was crying until he saw the wet spots on his suitcoat, and scrubbed his eyes with his sleeve. He always made an effort each year not to cry, but it always failed. Leave it to that stupid git, to say one of the most cliché lines ever before he died, taking Arthur's heart with him. He had been so young, and they'd been so in love…moving in together as soon as Arthur graduated college, married when Arthur was twenty-seven and Alfred twenty-four. Everything had been so happy then, just the two of them together-they were far from perfect, and they would bicker sometimes, but in the end they still loved each other, and that was what mattered. Five years later, and Arthur wasn't even planning on finding anyone else, because no one could be Alfred.

"Mr. Kirkland?"

He jumped, rubbing his sleeve over his eyes to make sure there were no traces of tears and looked over to see his secretary standing there. She was a petite blonde with chin length blonde hair that curled around her heart-shaped face, and bright blue eyes that reminded him of Alfred's-that was part of the reason he had been so cold to her. But the young woman didn't seem to mind, always greeting him with a bright smile and a wave. He didn't even know her name, since she'd only been working two weeks and frankly Arthur had been avoiding her, because there was simply too much similarity, and it hurt. He cleared his throat, giving her a curt nod.

"Good morning, Miss."

"Amelia. Since you didn't ask." She said in a chipper tone, smiling at him and glancing at the headstone in front of him. "…is that your husband? Francis told me, I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"It's fine." Arthur grumbled, turning to look back at the marble stone, reaching out to trace the curves of the letters that spelled out the name that was also etched in his heart. He heard Amelia sighed softly, and then he felt a touch on his arm-he shied away, shooting her a frosty glance.

"Why are you even here? Surely you didn't come all the way here to apologize when you should be working."

"Ah, actually, I've got the morning off, Mr. Kirkland." Amelia replied, and when he raised his eyebrows and looked at her he noticed the sadness in her deep blue eyes. She walked past him, a little ways down the row of graves, and then stopped. Arthur noticed the way her smile changed slightly, and then he realized that she was holding a heart doily, a homemade valentine, and a single pale pink carnation. When she saw him looking she just smiled sadly, and he looked back down, clearing his throat and shuffling his feet uncomfortably.

"Oh, so you've, ah…lost someone, as well."

Amelia just nodded, still smiling that sad smile that was almost more painful to see than if she'd been frowning.

"Yes…four years ago today."

"I'm sorry." Arthur said softly, almost automatically, feeling a twinge of guilt for being so insensitive. Amelia just shook her head, crouching down to set the valentine and carnation down on the undisturbed snow, he breath misting in the cold winter air.

"Her name was Alice…I loved her so much, we were supposed to be getting married that summer, but then on her way home from work that day…a drunk driver smashed into the side of her car." She took a deep breath, and he could swear he heard it catch in her throat, but he couldn't see her eyes to know if she was crying or not. "Ali…she was in a little compact car, and the other driver was an SUV. There was so chance…she died at the scene."

"I'm so sorry." Arthur said softly, hesitating before he walked over and placed a hand on her shoulder. She just smiled at him.

"You kinda remind me of her, ya know? She was a more quiet person, a bit grumpy sometimes." Amelia laughed a bit at that, looking down at the small headstone. "But she could also be so tender, and so loving…I really miss her, y'know? I wouldn't have come back, but…even getting away from this town didn't help. There's still too much of my heart that she took with her…"

"…How can you stand it?"

Amelia looked up at him, raising one golden eyebrow curiously.

"What do you mean?"

Arthur just gritted his teeth, looking back at the small plot where the one he had loved lay, a face that he would never get to see again outside of videos and pictures, of a loud, cheerful voice that he would never hear again, a hand he would never hold, lips he would never get to kiss…

"How can you stand being without them? How can you stand seeing people together, laughing, smiling, holding each other, when you know that you can never be with them again, never…never hug them, or kiss them, o-or just _be_ with them…how can you stand such a happy holiday on the day that she was taken from you?"

"Because Alice wouldn't have wanted me to be sad all the time." Amelia answered simply, her voice soft and a small smile on her face, taking Arthur's hand in her own, closing her eyes. "Alice wouldn't have wanted me to forget her, but I also know that she wouldn't want me wasting my life away lamenting her death. Yes, it hurts knowing that she can't be here, that this is the day she died…but I don't want to let that control my life, y'know?"

Arthur just looked at her, and at their hands, and then he bit his lower lip, turning his gaze to the ground. He knew she was right, that Alfred especially would have wanted him to be happy, to life the rest of his life to the fullest-Alfred had told him so, once he'd learned he was dying. But that's what made it so hard, going each day knowing that they'd had that time to prepare themselves for the inevitable, but that almost just made it worse. He remembered nights where Alfred would hold him as he cried, asking him how he could go on living when Alfred wasn't there. But there were also nights where he had cradled the younger man to his chest as he sobbed, as he finally let his fears show, when he would soak Arthur's shirt with tears as he would whisper over and over "_I'm so scared, Arthur, I'm so scared, I'm going to die, I'm so scared, I'm going to die…"_. Those nights had always been the worst, because he knew as much as he missed Alfred, it had been worse for him, knowing that he was going to die so soon, to feel that pain in his heart. Arthur made a face, looking at the paper heart that Amelia had made into a valentine. It was silly, seeing such a representation, because hearts didn't look like that, he'd seen plenty of scans of Alfred's heart over the years. He hated it, that pathetic representation of a heart, as if the heart was really the source of all those feelings, but Arthur knew that that was absolutely wrong. After all, even if Alfred's heart had been getting weaker, their love had never waned, he'd never stopped loving Arthur and Arthur had never stopped loving him to this day. Amelia just looked at him, squeezing his hand a bit.

"You have to let it go, Arthur. It will be hard, but…once you start letting go, it gets easier, I swear."

"Let go? What, you mean forget him?" Arthur snapped, his head shooting up to look at her, but Amelia just shook her head, her blue eyes sparkling.

"No, Arthur-Mr Kirkland, you shod never forget about him. But you have to live your own life as well, you can't let your life grind to a halt with his. Stop hating trivial things simply because they just happened to be associated with his death. This day will never be a happy one, but…at least you could have someone to share your pain with."

Arthur looked at her, at the young blonde woman who couldn't have been more than twenty-five years of age, but who knew of the pain he felt, who had lost the one they'd loved on this day meant for sweethearts. He hadn't opened up to anyone, never been able to relieve the pressure of the memories, the ache in his heart…but maybe, just maybe, he had found the only person with whom he could, who wouldn't judge him for what he said. He'd found someone who knew his pain…and he knew hers. There would be no danger of either loving the other, because they both held the same love for the one they had lost, and they were okay with that. It was a friendship, a way to comfort the other, and that was all they wanted. He nodded slightly, and then his lips quirked up in a very tiny smile and he took his other hand, placing it over hers.

"You can call me Arthur."


End file.
